


A Successful Marriage

by Rumaan



Series: The Marriage Mart [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Drabble Collection, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Raising and Marrying off Children, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/pseuds/Rumaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ned Stark, Duke of Winterfell, has been successfully married to Lady Catelyn for twenty-two years, what challenges await them as their own children navigate the marriage mart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DKNC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKNC/gifts).



> Yes, return of my Regency AU after a year or so and finally a set of drabbles for Cat and Ned. These are all connected drabbles so there will be time jumps and things skipped. Other pairings have their own dedicated story in this series and will be referenced in this and in the other stories so to get a good overall understanding of the world I've building, please read those. 
> 
> This world is heavily influenced by my love Georgette Heyer books and are not beta'd so please excuse any mistakes.
> 
> Also, I am not GRRM or Georgette Heyer (who is dead) and am writing these solely for my own amusement.

The letter had Ned strolling from his study in search of his wife. He tracked her down her private sitting room, where she was pouring over lists.

“Am I disturbing you, my love?” he asked.

“Oh, please do, Ned! If I have to look over these menus for any longer, then I may just end up throwing them into the fire.”             

“The summer fete?” he asked.

“Yes, I just spent the morning with the cook, Mrs Cassel, and the gardener, and of course there is no agreement anywhere.”

Ned moved behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders and began to knead the knots of tension out of them. She made a humming noise of pleasure and he bent down to kiss her neck, gaining a thrill out of how she tilted her head to give him better access. His hands went to the pins that kept her hair up in the neat chignon she preferred but Catelyn thwarted him, slapping them away.

“Ned! I have the vicar’s wife calling upon me before luncheon and I do not wish to scandalise her by attending her visit with my hair hanging down my back.”

Sighing, Ned moved around his lovely wife to sit in the chair opposite, as far as he was concerned Catelyn always look better with her hair down, but he knew better than to try and persuade her. “I received a letter from Robb this morning,” he said and smiled as his wife’s eyes lit up.

He knew how desperately she missed her two eldest children, but she had been determined Sansa would have a season and not be forced to squander her beauty on a country squire. When the rumours of Lord Snow’s courtship of Sansa had reached them, Catelyn had not hesitated to send Robb south with strict instructions to make sure the boy was decent. Catelyn was determined that there would be no repeat of the Joffrey incident.

“Will he do, Ned?”

Ned decided it would be best to get the good news out of the way first. Then, when Catelyn worried about Robb’s unexpected behaviour, there would be no anxiety over Sansa’s situation.

“Robb is full of praises, my love. Indeed he reports that all three of Rhaegar’s children are delightful.”

“That is good. It may have been a while since I was in Town, but I still have acquaintances there, and they, too, tell me that the Targaryen children are perfectly charming.”

“Robb wrote to me about something else, Cat. He appears to have betrothed himself whilst in the Capital.”

Catelyn stared at him for a good few moments, her eyes widened and dazed. “He what?” she finally said.

“Robb is engaged, apparently,” Ned said dryly, understanding Catelyn’s bemusement. He, himself, had needed to read Robb’s letter several times before fully comprehending his eldest son’s actions.

“Please tell me it is to an actual lady of quality.”

Ned had to smile at that. When Robb had been no more than five and ten, he had decided he was going to marry the Head Groom’s comely daughter who had a good ten years on the young Marquis. His calf-love had been nipped in the bud when the young lady’s fiancée, a local farmer, had caught Robb serenading his beloved and knocked him down. Robb had worn a darkened eye and heartbreak for all of a fortnight before bouncing back. He had shown no real interest in matrimony ever since.

“Lady Margaery Baratheon, the widow of Lord Renly.”

“A widow!” Catelyn exclaimed.

“A very young widow. She was not married for more than a few months. She is the Tyrell daughter.”

He only knew this because he had looked it up in his latest edition of Burke’s Peerage. He did not pay much attention to marriages of the _Haute Ton_ , especially as he did not go to Town unless it was completely unavoidable.

Ned did not know the Tyrell family too well, but he knew they came from fertile lands that had made them incredibly wealthy. Only the Lannisters had more disposal income. It was a good match but Ned had not taken to Lord Mace Tyrell the one time he had met him, finding him brash and crude in his methods.

“Eligible at least,” Catelyn said. “But, Ned, what was he thinking?”         

“They are a very handsome family,” Ned said, venturing a not too subtle guess at what had attracted his son.

Catelyn harrumphed. “Well, we will have to go to Town. This betrothal trumps a summer fete. I imagine we will have to throw a ball.”

Ned cleared his throat. “Robb informs me that Lord and Lady Tyrell have already made plans to throw them a ball.”

“Oh, they have, have they?” Catelyn said, a martial gleam entering her beautiful blue eyes. “If I am not mistaken, no announcement has been sent to _The Morning Gazette_. I believe I would have noticed my own son’s name in that publication.”

“No, Robb writes that he wanted us to find out from him personally.”

“At least he has some sense,” Catelyn said, dusting her hands and rising. “A missive to the _Gazette_ can wait until we have arrived in Town. You may write Robb and inform him of our plans. _If_ this engagement stands then it will be fitting for us to throw an official engagement ball.”

“Yes, my love,” Ned said with an appreciative smile.

The Starks might not take an active role in the hustle and bustle of fashionable life, preferring to remain in the wilds of the North, tending to their lands and tenants, but if the Tyrells thought they had control of this whole match then they had yet to meet the Duchess of Winterfell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your comments and kudos. This is such a fun 'verse to write in.
> 
> This drabble hasn't been beta'd so please excuse any mistakes.

Catelyn had forgotten just how far Winterfell was from London. How taxing the journey could be even in the well sprung chaise. Of course it did not help that she had insisted Arya came with them. Her rebellious daughter’s sulking and pouting had sat heavily in the carriage, making the journey even more indeterminable. It did not help that Arya had wanted to ride. Of course she had, but there had been no option but to forbid such plans. The daughter of the Duke of Winterfell could not be seen dusty and travel-stained on the busy Great North Road.

However weary she was, Catelyn did not allow herself more than a quick cup of tea and some macaroons before she sallied forth to visit her sister. If she was in Town then Sansa would reside under her roof, no matter how grateful she was for her sister’s hospitality.

“Cat, _darling_ , I did not think to see you in Town ever again,” Lysa said, as Catelyn was ushered in through the door. “I thought Eddard had hidden you on that estate of his.”

Catelyn stopped on the threshold, her eyes widening a little at the style of Lysa’s dress, which would have been dashing on a young matron, let alone a widow past her fortieth birthday.

“Lysa,” Catelyn said, moving forward and bending down to kiss Lysa’s cheek. “I came as soon as I arrived.”

“I can tell, Cat, that dress is horridly outmoded. You will have to see a mantua maker before you attend any soirees. I will not have you dragging my reputation down by appearing as such a dowd,” Lysa said archly.

Ned, who had been delayed by Lysa’s son, Robert, arrived just in time to hear his sister-in-law utter those words and a frown descended on his face. He always took Lysa’s words the wrong way, sure that an insult to Catelyn was hidden in their playful depths.

“Eddard,” Lysa said. “I see you are as grim as ever.”

“Lysa,” Ned said with a curt nod of his head.

It was then that Catelyn noticed him. He had been standing slightly in the shadow but now he moved forward, capturing her hand and placing a gallant kiss on the back. “Cat, you look as radiant as ever,” Petyr said.

“Petyr!” Catelyn said with a smile. “I did not know you were in Town. It has been an age since I saw you last.”

“Far _far_ too long, my dear Cat,” Petyr said, squeezing her hand. “Your husband seems to have you secluded in the North.”

Catelyn was not sure she cared for Petyr’s tone or his insinuations, but that had always been his way. He took a delight in clever word play.

If at all possible, Ned’s frown deepened at Petyr’s words and he gave the younger man nothing more than a nod of acknowledgment.

\----------

Ned had a headache by the time they left Lysa’s house. He always struggled with his sister-in-law, finding her flighty and insipid next to Catelyn. Then there were the rumours of her ‘mistake’ before she married Jon Arryn that Robert had whispered in his ears one drunken night at White’s. Ned didn’t want to believe them and had never brought them up to Catelyn, knowing that such rumours about her sister would upset her greatly.

But the presence of Petyr Baelish in her salon was worrying. Catelyn had never wanted to listen to stories of her childhood friend, but Baelish had an unsavoury reputation and Ned wasn’t too pleased that he was apparently running free in a household where Sansa was staying.

At least she would be removed from such an environment now that he had opened the Stark Townhouse. There was no need for either Robb or Sansa to be under Lysa Arryn’s roof now and he could not help but be happy about it.

“Lysa seemed in fine fettle,” Catelyn remarked as the carriage began moving.

Ned made an ambiguous noise however Catelyn threw him a knowing glance. “Just what is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“It’s just Baelish. She should be careful.”

“Careful of what? Petyr’s an old friend.”

“An old friend with no prospects.”

“Just what are you implying, Eddard?”

Catelyn always brought out his full name when she did not like what he was saying, but he could not be quiet about this.

“Jon left her a very wealthy widow, love, and I would not like to see her taken advantage of. That boy of hers doesn’t have enough sense to keep the fortune hunters away.”

“But surely Petyr-” Catelyn started before breaking off.

“Petyr has lived on the margins of high society for a long time, Cat. I know you have fond memories of him, but he is not so well spoken of in other circles.”

His wife looked uncomfortable at his words. “I must admit I did not think to see him _alone_ with Lysa like that,” she said reluctantly.

Ned knew how much family meant to his wife. She was loyal to them and it would pain her to make such an admission about her sister, even to him.

“I am sure it is nothing, love,” he said patting her hand.

But he made a mental note to make sure he quizzed Robb about the comings and goings of Petyr Baelish.

**Author's Note:**

> I do take prompts for these on [my tumblr](http://rumaan.tumblr.com/) so feel free to send me prompts for them. Although it might take me a while to fulfil the prompt as I often write them when either reading Georgette Heyer books or have writers block on my WIPs.


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